


Is It The Pilot Or The Ship?

by StarkRogers



Category: The Expanse (TV)
Genre: Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Rimming, Technological Kink, Zero-gravity sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 06:43:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12929700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarkRogers/pseuds/StarkRogers
Summary: They've just successfully hid from some pursuers, and Amos wants to thank Alex for how very good he is at what he does.





	Is It The Pilot Or The Ship?

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Tabbystardust XD
> 
> I've only seen season 1 and I haven't read the books, so this is purely going off season 1 material.

“Alex, you keep flying like that and nobody’s gonna be able to catch us,” Amos says, pulling himself up the stairs to the pilot’s deck of the _Rocinante_. They’re drifting without gravity for the moment, the ship on low power as they hide from their pursuers. Alex grins at Amos.

“It ain’t me, it’s the _Roci_. She’s a real good ship,” Alex says, adrenaline from the chase still buzzing in his veins. He fondly caresses the control panel in front of him. 

“Yeah, and you fly her like you’re stringing along a lover, keeping her tight until you’re ready to tip her over the edge,” Amos says, his voice a bit more serious than Alex would’ve expected. Alex laughs, and his eyes sparkle as he looks away from Amos. The words settle somewhere warm in his stomach. Damn. Screw Amos and his big hands that Alex absolutely does not think about in his off time.

“You’re still givin’ me too much credit,” Alex says, flicking his fingers over the controls, setting the ship to hold their current position relative to the nearby asteroid. He turns back to Amos who is now quite a lot closer, determined to get through this conversation as casually as possible. “I couldn’ta done that with a cargo ship.”

“Yeah you could’ve,” Amos says with a nod, sounding so sincere that the feeling of warmth spreads up Alex’s neck, dangerously close to his face. “You’re a damn good pilot, whatever you try to say.” Amos puts his wide hand on Alex’s shoulder and squeezes warmly. Alex tries to ignore it, feeling himself turning redder. “We’re alive five times over because of you. Stop denying it.”

“Ah, come on man-” Alex says as he stares at the readouts, hoping Amos can’t tell he’s blushing.

“You’re a good pilot, and you’ve got a goooood ship,” Amos drawls, his mouth suddenly inches from Alex’s ear. Alex jumps and swallows hard and suddenly needs to leave *now*. For - for reasons. 

“Th-thanks,” Alex stutters, trying to hastily unbuckle himself from the pilot’s seat before Amos sees his crotch and failing spectacularly to decipher how seatbelts work. Amos’ hands drift down and Alex inhales sharply, freezing. 

“Yeah,” Amos says appraisingly, his voice soft as his fingers easily undo the clasp. “Thought I read you right.”

“What’re you talkin’ about?” Alex says breathlessly, sitting very still even though the seatbelt is now floating free.

“There’s two things that’ll get you excited. This ship… and being told when you’re doing so, so good.” Amos’ voice is deep and heavy and intimately quiet. Fuck. How did Amos do it? How did he read Alex so well, like it was written on his face? This wasn’t fair. 

“You can't fuck a ship, Alex,” Amos says suddenly, and Alex balks. 

“I don’t want to fuck the-!”

“Shh.” Amos hushes him, and Alex is annoyed with himself because he actually shuts up, wanting to know what Amos has to say next. “I got you, flyboy. Just hold tight to that railing. I’ll tell you how damn good you are, and you tell the _Roci_ how much you love her.”

Alex can’t see; his heart is pounding too hard and he’s forgotten to breathe for a few seconds and his vision has gone out. Amos pulls him out of the pilot’s chair while he’s still mentally rebooting, and pushes him towards the railing around the control panel. Alex grabs on reflexively, then turns his head to Amos as he finally regains his senses. 

“Amos-”

“Everyone else is busy, don’t worry about them,” Amos says with a knowing grin. 

“That ain’t the issue,” Alex protests.

“What is it?”

“Since when are you into me?” Alex blurts out. It’s not like the two of them are the friendliest among the crew; affectionately antagonistic might be a good descriptor. 

“Ever since I saw you in that Martian uniform for the first time,” Amos says deadpan, and Alex can’t tell if he’s being serious or not.

“The first time you saw me in that uniform, you strangled me,” Alex points out. Amos’ face breaks into a wry grin.

“Yeah, I did,” he says with a huffing laugh. Alex raises an eyebrow. “Hey, I thought you were a Martian spy, I had good reasons,” Amos shrugs. 

“You sure are winnin’ me over with this quality smooth-talkin’,” Alex says dryly. 

“Didn’t take you to be much into breathplay,” Amos replies smoothly. “But if you want-”

“No!” Alex says hastily, his face bright red again. “That’s not what I meant. I meant…”

“I trust you in that chair,” Amos says bluntly, nodding to the pilot’s seat. Alex glances over his shoulder at it. “I trust you with my life, with Naomi and Holden’s lives. And I like seeing you get all excited when you’re flying, even when we’re about to bite it. You get off on that rush a little, though I don’t think you want to admit it out loud.”

Alex looks away from the chair and back to Amos.

“Do you trust me?” Amos asks. Alex licks his lip, then chews on it for a second. Finally he nods.

“Yeah,” Alex says. “I trust you.”

Amos floats behind Alex, covering Alex’s hands where they’re still gripping the railing white-knuckled with his own. Heat radiates up Alex’s arms. It’s nice… Amos’ body settles against his back, and that’s warm too, raising goosebumps all over his body. Amos’ hands switch to Alex’s hips, pulling them together and suddenly Alex can feel Amos is hard, pressing against his backside. For whatever stupid reason he hadn’t expected Amos to actually be into this, and he exhales sharply as another wave of heat rushes through him, his hips rolling slightly. 

Amos laughs softly behind him, his hands gripping Alex tighter for a moment as his hips move. His hands run up Alex’ stomach and chest until his fingers find the top of the zipper on Alex’s jump suit. He pulls the zipper down and slips his hands inside, tracing softly across his undershirt. Alex’s stomach clenches involuntarily and he swears softly.

“You’re gonna be good at this too, aren’t you?” Amos asks with a breathy laugh. “Already moving anywhere I touch you. Real responsive, just like the _Roci_ …”

Alex makes a strangled noise that attempts to expresses many desperate concepts all at once, and then throws his head back with another curse as Amos’ hand curls around his length inside the jumpsuit.

“Fuck!”

“God yeah you’re gonna be good,” Amos mutters against Alex’s neck, and all Alex can do is close his eyes and moan. Alex’s heart is pounding in his chest, his pulse rushing in his ears. Amos carefully pries one of Alex’s hands off the railing, and pulls his arm out of the sleeve. Alex lets him, and as soon as that arm is free he latches back on and lets go with the other hand, pulling his arm through the sleeve as Amos holds it. Amos pushes the top of the jumpsuit down to Alex’s waist, then over his hips. Alex looks over his shoulder at Amos, who grins back at him. 

“You wear boxers, I had you pegged as a briefs dude.”

“I like my junk t’be free,” Alex replies drolly. Amos laughs and pulls the boxers down too, leaving Alex’s cock trapped inside but with room to move, the tip pressed hard against the fabric, tenting it outwards. Amos drifts down until his face is even with Alex’s bare backside. Alex isn’t sure what Amos is doing down there, but he has an idea, and it makes him flush again. “You really gonna, uh…”

“Yep,” Amos replies with smug grin that in ANY other circumstance Alex would describe with a different phrase. Then Amos puts his mouth on Alex, and Alex groans, his arms curling around the railing slightly as he holds on. Amos’ hot tongue presses against him and his eyes flutter shut, soft moans chasing every exhale. Amos sucks, then presses his tongue inside and Alex’s eyes glaze over, his mouth slack as he pants. The bridge fills with the sounds of Alex panting and the soft sounds of Amos’ mouth on him, _inside_ him. 

The gentle atmosphere is broken by Alex, who swears again as Amos slips a finger inside and curls it down. Alex’s hips jerk forward and he grips the railing harder, his face pressed against his arms, which are now fully wrapped around the railing.

“Aaamos,” he moans, slurring the name against his forearm. The front of his boxers are damp with precum, and it feels amazing as his length rubs against it with every twitch and jerk of his hips.

“You’re doin’ real good,” Amos says, his voice full of praise. Alex shivers. “You’re stretching out nice and easy, I’m hardly having to work at all.” To prove his point he slides a second finger inside. Alex chokes on air and presses himself back against Amos’ fingers, desperate for more. “Yeah, look at that…” Amos says, his voice straining slightly. Amos pulls himself up against Alex’s back again and holds onto his hips with one hand while he pulls down the zipper on his coveralls with the other. He licks his hand to slick himself up, then lines himself up and presses inside.

“Ah!” Alex’s back arches as he feels himself stretching and opening around Amos.

“Nice and slow,” Amos says, his voice shaking as he works his way inside bit by bit, pulling out then rocking back in, shallow and gentle. Alex moans and shakes his head, trying to push back, to drive Amos deeper. It doesn’t work because of the lack of gravity but his hips keep trying until he’s gasping and desperate. 

“Amos - Amos c’mon, give me more-”

Amos reaches out and grabs the railing, pulling himself in close so he can get deeper with his next thrust. Alex shouts with relief, his hips snapping against Amos’.

“Yeah, like that-” 

Amos wraps his other arm around Alex’s stomach. Now he has all the the leverage he needs, and he starts fucking Alex, deep and hard. Alex shudders against him, angling his hips just right so Amos hits his sweet spot with every thrust, his cock heavy and hard. 

“Alex-” Amos pants softly, his face pressed against Alex’ back. Something about the way Amos says his name goes right to Alex’s heart, and he’s suddenly aware that this isn’t just a fuck, it’s something more-

Alex cries out as he comes, his boxers soaking it up, the tip of his cock sliding against the damp fabric. Amos shivers, still thrusting hard, coming close to finishing too.

“Ah- so- good-” Amos pants, his hips speeding up, snapping quickly as he comes with a groan, his mouth presses against Alex’s back. 

They breathe heavily together for a few minutes, Alex’s arms slowly giving up their white-knuckled grip on the railing, Amos letting go to just hold onto Alex. He slips out and Alex groans. They pull themselves together, zipping up their coveralls to contain the mess. 

Amos drifts to Alex’s side, leans in to kiss him… and Alex reaches up, covering Amos’ mouth with his entire hand.

“HELL no,” Alex says, and Amos raises an eyebrow, pulling away slightly with a grin.

“What?”

“I know _exactly_ where your mouth has been, and you are _not_ kissin' me,” Alex says firmly. The grin on Amos’ face widens.

“What, it’s fine for my mouth, but not yours?”

“I don’t talk as much shit as you do,” Alex shoots back. Amos roars with laughter, letting himself float away. He points at Alex, still smirking as he guides himself back down the stairs.

“I like you.”

“Go brush your god damned teeth and wipe that shit-eating grin off your face,” Alex calls down the stairs. Amos chuckles and drifts through the hatch, disappearing from view. 

Fuck. Alex sighs, checking everything one more time before leaving the bridge too. He needs a shower.


End file.
